Kings, Queens, Knights & Horses
by Kaesteranya
Summary: Drabbles and flash fiction pieces for Millefiore-centric general drabbles, and for Millefiore-centric introspective pieces. Currently featuring 10051, SpaShou, GammaUni and a bit of crack.
1. Biding time with the crows & sparrows

**Biding time with the crows and sparrows**

_This takes place during the future of the TYL arc, soon after Tsuna's assassination; head's up for spoilers on the plot twists revealed in the later parts of the arc. The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for May 27, 2008._

'_Ichirobo' is the chat handle that I and a couple of my friends think Shouichi must use whenever he's on the Internet._

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Irie Shouichi arrived at 2:47 AM, exactly an hour after Sawada Tsuyanoshi was gunned to death on the main stairwell of the Boccaccio Family Mansion. It took him two hours to acquaint himself with the situation, and another four hours to properly establish his authority. The Boccaccio had been a stalwart supporter Vongola Family, at least until the day the Millefiore had stepped into the game. White Spell squadrons were currently doing their new allies a favor by summarily executing each member of the family with a clean shot to the head. It was sure to be better than anything that the Vongola were bound to do to them once they recovered from the shock of losing their boss and rallied together. One of his subordinates had been kind enough to inform Irie about the executions, and had wondered if it would please their leader to oversee the proceedings personally. Irie had politely declined, and proceeded to walk out of the mansion, over to the nearest copse of trees and start puking out his dinner and any hope of eating a good breakfast.

_Good job, Ichirobo_. _How very professional of you._

It was amazing how one's inner voice could sound completely flat and unimpressed even while one's body was bent over double, wracked with chills and otherwise feeling like shit. Shouichi tried to straighten up, felt the world tilt sideways again, and immediately slumped against the nearest tree for support. A few more minutes, and he would be a-okay. He just needed a little more time—

"Well, if it isn't Irie-kun."

The day was, indeed, panning out to be absolutely wonderful. Shouichi's professionalism kicked in before his self-preservation skills did, and the brunette immediately snapped up straight, staring at the tall and now increasingly familiar figure of Byakuran.

"…Ah. Good morning, sir."

Byakuran chuckled and waved him off. His eyes – languid and violet – slid away from Shouichi's face, moving towards the base of the tree that Shouichi had just spent the last few moments retching unto. "It's rather early for one to feel so sick, don't you think?" he murmured, stepping forward. A hand stretched out, smooth, white and long-fingered. "Here, let me help you."

"Ah, but—"

"I insist."

Until he had met Byakuran, Shouichi had not been aware of the fact that it was entirely possible for someone to kill another with kindness, to scare them into submission by being the perfect gentleman. The young man felt it again as he took Byakuran's hand: a brief surge of panic as Byakuran led him out into the pale light of the winter morning, that strange lightness at the sound of Byakuran's voice, that dull ache at the pit of his heart when he looked up and into Byakuran's eyes and remembered what he had done to get to that point and why he was even at the man's side in the first place. It had been hard to sleep during his first nights as the commander of the Japan division – he always ended up having nightmares, or torturing himself with the possibility that maybe Byakuran knew (knew about the Plan, knew about the way Shouichi's heart hiccupped whenever he was in the room), since Byakuran seemed to know everything. He did not know whether to consider the fact that Byakuran worked him to the bone a good thing or a bad thing. Now he was far too exhausted to dream, to wonder, to hope or to regret.

"You will be returning to Japan tomorrow, correct?" Byakuran's voice was the smooth, silken whisper just at his ear, drawing him out of his thoughts. Shouichi ducked his gaze and decided that the sight of his black boots against the blinding white of the snow at their feet was a most interesting thing.

"Yes."

"What a shame… I wanted to show you around Italy a little more. No matter," Byakuran lightly added. "You're doing important work for me in Namimori. There will be time for us to get acquainted with each other when all of this is over."

_You're the only ones that I can trust with this, _Sawada Tsuyanoshi had said to him and Hibari Kyouya, forty-eight hours before he became a bloodied smashed against a wooden staircase. Shouichi felt his free hand clench. He wondered, idly, if Byakuran noticed it.

"Of course."


	2. Sleeping with ghosts

**Sleeping with ghosts.**

_This takes place in a probable future, when Uni has become more like the woman her mother was, in more ways than one._

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Her hands are small, Gamma finds himself thinking, and he marvels at the way they look as they reach down, sliding just under his open coat, ghosting over his shirt and the skin and bone it conceals. Her fingers, white under black and just over grayish blue. The feather-like weight of her palm, warming him more than the fire burning steadily in the fireplace. He looks up and all he can see are her eyes and that small, rosebud mouth, sketched against the light (or near lack thereof) in the room.

Gamma has seen Uni under all sorts of conditions over the years, but he would have never imagined something like this. Dreamed it maybe, and dreamed it enough times to undo himself with longing, but there was a reason why he fought so hard to maintain that perfect distance, the small chasm between her back and his line of vision, spanning the length of his arm. The safe distance: the one thing he wasn't supposed to break. He was left to wonder, then, when he had let his guard slip and allowed her to turn around and touch him back.

"…Princess…?"

Gamma is choking now on the way he's always called Uni and she's still smiling, still all lightness and grace bundled neatly on his lap, legs straddling his waist, hands now drifting up and catching his face between them, holding him steady. "Gamma," she murmurs, affectionately, as though he were the now fully grown child and she the Guardian who always stood just right there, right where he could always see her and not be afraid of falling, "it's nothing, really." So calm. Always so perfectly calm.

When they kiss, though, Gamma tastes the need inside of her mouth and it's hot enough to burn him. _Has she always wanted this? _he wonders, as Uni coaxes his tongue out with her own, gazing straight into his eyes as they share one breath after another. She holds him still, with nothing but her lips and her hands. He does think about running, just once – a stray and blasphemous thought, as the memory of her mother comes to mind. That woman, though, is a name on a cold tombstone out behind an old willow tree, and Uni Giglionero is here, _right here_, breathing his name just against his ear just as her hands move down: one upon his shoulder (steadying) and the other burrowing gently between them, fingers reaching for the zipper of his pants. There's a sudden surge of panic, sharp and painful, built out of years of guilt and wanting. She kills it by kissing him harder.

Uni can't entirely untangle the knots he's made out of his heart in a single night and she seems to know this: it is in her smile and the rehearsed, guiding touch of her fingers. She is beneath Gamma but she controls Gamma, even while he moves inside of her, even if he grips her nearly hard enough to break someone who might not be as prepared as she is to face up to just how much he's needed this.

Gamma is above her but he follows her, tracing down paths familiar because he's traced the contours on another body, in another place. He follows Uni, as he has always done, as he always will. He wants to tell her this, but words have never been his strong point. He shows her instead, by sinking down, resting his head between her breasts, listening for her heartbeat. She smiles and pulls the sheets over them both, to give them a place to hide.

Outside, it begins to snow.

1 31 Days Theme: April 8, 2008.


	3. Wake up kick

**Wake up kick**

_This is totally not part of the requests that Lynffles made, but Genkishi and Sea Slug Crack had to be written. _ The title of the fic is taken from the 31 Days theme for July 23, 2008._

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Beyond the fact that he was secretly a part of Sawada Tsuyanoshi's Master Plan, one incident truly solidified Irie Shouichi's resolve to leave, and it wasn't because of Byakuran's creepy smile, impossibly long fingers and preference for lavender-scented lubricant.

"Genkishi-san, about theAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH WHAT THE HELL IS ON YOUR FACE?!"

Shouichi violently recoiled, flinging himself back and right unto his rump a good six inches away from Genkishi, who, by now, was raising his eyebrows and peering down at him as though it was perfectly normal for someone to have sea slugs crawling all over his face, leaving green traces of slime across his cheeks and over his forehead.

"I am communing with my box animals," he replied, in that sort of no-nonsense tone that people used when they were talking about scientific facts. "In order for one to excel as a warrior, one must be one with his weapons."

_I CAN SEE THAT_, Shouichi wanted to scream, but the young man rapidly discovered that he could do little else but sit there and gape up at Genkishi in a manner that would give a goldfish a run for its money. Genkishi raised an eyebrow; a slug slowly squished its way across and right under that eye. Shouichi felt like throwing up.

"Are you all right?"

Shouichi, from that day on, resolved that he had to Pull Away and Get the Fuck Out of the Millefiore as fast as he could.


	4. When all else fails

**When all else fails**

_Written for the word prompt "coffee" over at the KHR Fic Meme – if you don't know who Spanner is, then this is probably full of spoilers for you. XD The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for December 4, 2007. Special thanks to Nikki for doing the REAL archiving for all of us~_

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Shouichi was aware of his earphones being tugged off first, then a blanket being tucked about his shoulders. A pause, then a quiet sigh from somewhere behind him, just as he decided that maybe it would be a good idea to wake up.

"Anyone ever tell you that you suck taking care of yourself?"

Spanner was standing beside his seat with a hand on his hip and the other lifting a mug to his lips; there was another mug set right in front of Shouichi, a new addition to the mess on his desk. The bespectacled young man blinked up at his visitor blearily for one full minute, then groggily reached out for the mug. The smell of coffee – rich and dark and gloriously black – hit his nostrils, jogging his brain cells back into commission. He took his first sip with visible pleasure.

"The documents needed finishing now. Sleep can wait."

"Hum. The boss sure is a demanding one, isn't he?"

Shouichi refrained from answering. Spanner stared down at the younger man as he leaned back in his seat, yawned, stretched, ruffled his hair out, yawned again. All he could think of was how small those shoulders were, and how thin Shouichi's wrists had become. He appeared to have lost a considerable amount of weight since last month.

"Thanks for the coffee. I'm going to need this for the rest of the night."

"I dunno. Personally, I think you need to go to sleep."

Shouichi only smiled, huddled himself a little deeper in the blanket, then turned to his computer screen. He was typing a few minutes later, and Spanner knew that at that moment, he had turned invisible. Only two things could make Shouichi forget everything around him: his research, and Byakuran. Spanner left, but not without ruffling Shouichi's hair.

Months later, as the Millefiore base went under siege and Spanner found himself staring down at the drenched form of Sawada Tsunayoshi huddled at his feet, the mechanic remembered those shoulders and wrists, that distant stare. The man slipped his gun back into his holster, and geared himself up for the first of many betrayals.


	5. Be sweet, be false

**Be sweet, be false. **

_Set in the distant future, the one Tsuna and the gang recreated after they came back to their time. Uni must be around twenty or so in this fic._

_The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for August 23, 2007._

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"Gamma?"

He makes such a lovely picture from where he is, out there in the light of a cold March morning, seated cross-legged on the grass, canister I hand and cigarette on his lips. He is looking, as always, at something that is not her, something related to bodies piled up between the both of them, the names they do not speak. She is not saddened by this; not particularly. She cannot, in fact, imagine things being any different because either way, whether now, sooner, or later, her mother would have died and he would be left behind.

"Gamma, it's time for breakfast."

"Eh…? Oh! Good morning, boss."

The invitation to join him is in the tilt of his head and the quiet hope in his eyes. She sits beside him, smiling, arranging her skirts beneath her weight, around her form. She has learned, over the years, to not wonder why he never calls her 'princess' anymore.

"You're up very early."

"I wanted to show you that I'm _not_ the sleepyhead that you think I am."

"I'm only going to believe that if you manage to wake up before I do."

"That's unfair! You hardly ever sleep anymore."

She leans her head on his shoulder, to feel the warmth of his skin through his suit and the rumble of his laughter against her cheek. Their closeness is a result of a promise made too early and broken too soon, whose specter hovers over them every time the Tenth Generation Boss of the Vongola comes to visit, every time she catches a glimpse of Byakuran Gesso (his knife-like smile, his empty eyes) across a room. It is unfair, being forced to live the way they did because of a future that did not actually happen, but she had long since outgrown the need to believe in fairness.

"There will be another meeting this afternoon. Sawada-san wants me to be there for all the usual reasons."

She counts the number of seconds it takes for him to go still beneath her head, to turn and look down on her, searching for answers between the spaces of her words. She does not turn to look at him. She is fully aware of what must be done, and a Giglionero woman never shies away from doing her duty.

"Shall I come with you then?"

"I would like that, yes. You've always been an excellent judge of character."

She straightens up and brings herself to her feet. He has fallen back to staring at the grave of her mother by the time she slips back into the house.

Later, she watches him through the reflection of mirrors and wine glasses, looking into his eyes whenever he thinks that she is not aware and it is therefore safe for him to watch her: she catches his different expressions as she meets with the men of their world, the young and old together in one place to sell everything they had for her smile and her hand. It is cruel and she knows it, but she tells herself that he is used to losing, and in a way, it is his job to lose things. One more – even if it is her – won't really make a difference.


	6. I am following the enemy

**I am following the enemy**

_Loosely based on what we've recently learned about Shouichi and Byakuran, plus their odd little strategy game. The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for September 13, 2006._

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They used to talk during their little war games – he used to have two screens open, one with the game and one with a video feed of Byakuran's face. They'd play when it was nighttime in Italy and daylight in Japan, because Shouichi always found the way Byakuran looked in the sunlight a little too distracting. They'd wax strategy in between turns, and use their virtual battlefield and imaginary resources to play out their ideas. Their games nearly convinced Shouichi that in another world, they could have been friends.

Shouichi was set in his decision to destroy the Millefiore from the inside the moment Sawada Tsunayoshi was killed, and he's set even more now that he finds himself with the Tsuna of the past, working out a battle plan that will reverse everything, but he misses it, at times: the sound of Byakuran's voice over his computer speakers, and the curve of Byakuran's smile on a liquid crystal screen.


	7. I would love to love you

**I would love to love you.**

_Partially inspired by an extended discussion I had with one of the best Spanner players that I've ever met._

_The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for June 14, 2008._

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Spanner decided that he liked Irie Shouichi after their very first morning after.

A statement like that, of course, requires a little elaboration. Spanner, contrary to popular belief, is not a virgin: in as much as he is interested only in robots, he is also fully aware of the sort of needs a human body has, one of them being the need to fuck out the horny whenever it comes around. It was for that reason that he used to experiment back in university, in between tinkering day in and day out with his Moscas. Men, women… it didn't really matter, for so long as they looked nice and smelled nice and were willing to indulge his odd fascination for metal for at least a night.

It was when they started getting clingy that Spanner began to find them annoying. A one night stand was good, clean fun, but having a woman nagging at him 24/7 was counter-productive. Having a man puttering around, on the other hand, could get him in trouble, especially if they wanted a long-term relationship and he didn't and they happened to be quite capable of kicking the shit out of him. He didn't find the anal sex particularly undesirable, merely distasteful and not something he ought to do unless it was absolutely necessary. Still, it was better than having someone talking his ears off every time he left for the work desk right after sex, and most guys only passed him off as weird and never bothered to call on him again.

Shouichi, however, was the first and only man who ever sat up in bed the moment he took off, watched him at work, and then politely asked if it would be all right with Spanner if he used the latter's console, because he had deadlines to meet and traveling back to his laboratory would just take too much time. Spanner, who was normally particular about other people touching his machines, found himself saying yes. They spent the next few hours quiet and off in their own corners of Spanner's laboratory, working on what they worked with best.

It soon became a regular practice, them dropping in, them fucking, and them breaking away to work, work, work. Sometimes, they'd eat together. Sometimes, they'd talk. Moments like that were the only opportunities Spanner had to study Shouichi closely, to memorize the exact lines and angles of the younger man's face. Moments like that were almost enough to convince Spanner that maybe, with the right human, being in a relationship wasn't so bad after all.

He almost regrets losing what they might have had, as he takes Sawada Tsunayoshi down into his laboratory rather than kill him, but somehow, he has a feeling that if Shouichi were in the same position as he was, the younger man would do exactly the same thing.

(Spanner pleasantly surprised, then, to later discover that Shouichi is one step ahead of him in the betrayal market: he has been, even before they met.)


	8. Laugh Out Loud

**Laugh Out Loud.**

_Yet ANOTHER fic inspired by my conversation with a kickass Spanner-mun._

_The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for April 22, 2008._

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Given the fact that Gamma was painfully straight and Spanner was sexually _un_interested, one would think that the two men wouldn't have ever ended up in the same bed. The judicious application of a liberal amount of alcohol, however, had the tendency to flip the tables on just about any situation or possibility. Besides, Spanner was not stupid enough to deny a very drunk Gamma when he wanted sex. Booze or no booze, this was a man who could kill someone with a cue ball. Spanner was not exactly keen on dying, not while he had a great many Mosca models of all shapes, sizes and functions to build.

Spanner fully intended to be up, dressed and out the door long before Gamma even stirred – the man was Captain of the Black Spell unit, and it was best for the both of them if he didn't remember what he had been up to the other night. He was a little put out, then, by the fact that he woke up to an empty bed and the smell of pancakes, followed by a great amount of Awkward and fumbling from Gamma's part when the man peeked in to tell him that breakfast was ready.

His amusement, however, soon made up for that. Really: being coddled like a pregnant wife for a whole morning had its benefits.


	9. Lemonflavored kisses

**Lemon-flavored kisses**

_The companion fic to "Loneliness and desire", and something of an alternative take on the same situation. The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for April 3, 2008._

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Byakuran always kisses Uni Giglionero firmly, with the decisiveness becoming of a man who is used to getting what he wants, when he wants. She is seated in a high-backed chair of his choosing, at a table of his choosing, in one of the many rooms of his estate. He looms over her, a tall white shadow against the dark of her clothes, taking her lips for his own.

That he treats her as his doll is not surprising. He knows the exact breadth and depth in which he had penetrated her thoughts and occupied her mind. He knows exactly what to do, to retain his hold on the glass threads of the web he's woven about her pretty little neck.


	10. Loneliness and desire

**Loneliness and desire**

_The companion fic to "Lemon-flavored kisses". The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for September 26, 2005._

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Gamma always kisses Uni Giglionero tentatively, testing, it would seem, the reality of the situation – that they are lying in one bed, face-to-face, legs twined together the way ivy wraps itself around a tree, or creeps over old and weather-worn rocks.

You can't really blame him, given everything that they are going through. You can't really fault him for thinking, time and again, even after she said "yes" and he dared not to breathe for a second afterward, that this wasn't going to last, that he was imagining things and he was going to wake up alone somewhere. Utterly alone, with nothing but the imagined scent of her on his pillow.


	11. First time's the charm

**Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?**

_Written for the prompt "you wanted to be in love / and he just happened to get in the way". THANKS SO MUCH, BHEX, FOR SAVING MY BACON._

_The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for February 1, 2008._

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Ask Irie Shouichi for his say on the matter, and he'll insist that he's straight – he'll insist upon it so much, in fact, that one will have more than enough reason to doubt it. His first ever crush had been on his computer teacher in third grade; his first bestest friend in the whole wide world had been a snub-nosed girl in preschool who had squatted with him in one corner of the sandbox, drawing numbers in the sand. He used to watch pornographic videos and play h-games and keep a stash of hentai _doujinshi_ under his pillow. For all his geekery, he is absolutely certain that he was a hot-blooded male with hot-blooded male needs.

Now, however, after meeting Byakuran, after realizing that there's something about those eyes/those lips/that voice/that smile, Irie Shouichi realizes that he really isn't so sure after all.


	12. The sun of life's morning

**The sun of life****'s morning.**

…_Yeah, I sort of cheated with this one, since it is technically set in the Return on Investment universe, but it can stand on its own well enough. For those of you who are reading ROI, consider this a look into things to come WAY into the future._

_Written for the prompt "I live for her memory". The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for May 12, 2009._

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You mistake her for her mother one morning on the hours before a big negotiation: she's haloed in the light and it's a pretty morning, really, except all you can think about is the cold of it and the light of it and how you're dressed up again in your usual black suit and ready to move out to stay at her shoulder and wait for the perfect chance to fuck shit up in her name. How harsh this sort of life is on her and yet she never complains, never lifts up a finger in protest.

None of that's important now, though, those menial details: meditate on your surprise you felt instead, when you came up to her room and walked in without knocking and found her already standing by the window, already dressed in Grim Reaper Clothes of her own. Splitting image of her mother, all long limbs and perfect hair and sweetest smile like no one else knew how to smile before she set the first example, and for a second there you were taken back and you thought you saw a ghost in the morning light, a trace of an aria in the curve of her lips and the fine lines of her face.

Good thing you don't say the name; you're not that stupid. Still, she figures it out with one look at your face, and you don't know if that's somehow worse, the fact that she doesn't comment, doesn't say anything, just smiles and smoothly diverts your attention with Talk.

"I thought you and Shou-chan agreed that Shou-chan was going to come with me today."

"I changed my mind."

That split second of sadness and the momentary ruefulness to her smile makes you remember for the umpteenth time that she's not a child anymore and you really shouldn't be treating her like one, but you haven't quite fallen out of the habit of remembering what it used to be like, holding her tiny hands between your big big ones, guiding her as she stepped out on uneven ground for the first time, fearing that you'll fess up somehow and she'll fall and skin her knees. You cannot hold her hand now, not without looking kind of funny – you're the old, washed up mutt amidst a sea of Young and (Over)eager, and most of the time the newbies wonder why the hell you're still around and most especially why you're always around the Princess.

Sometimes, you wonder that for yourself as well.

"Well, it's been a while anyway. Shall we go?"

"Mm. Car's out back."

"Okay."

There's been an ache in your bones that you can't quite get rid of lately, and you hate the fact that you have to do this eating healthy bullshit when you've always been a man for steak and mashed potatoes all day, any day, anytime and anywhere. It's not that you're unhealthy – it's that you're coming on with the years and not gaining any more time than that which you've been given. But the way she looks at you, oh, the way she looks at you – it's like she doesn't see the wear and tear that you see, like you've never stopped being anything but "Gamma", the one closest to her mother and therefore the one closest to her own heart.

"…Gamma?"

"Sorry, drifted off there for a bit… ready, Princess?"

"Mm!"

It is sad, though, because in as much as you want to stay, you also know what's best for her, and what is best does not include a broken up man with a gimp leg and a serious mid-life crisis going on. What she does not need is a specter of the old regime running about around her legs as she walks, a reminder of all the dust that folks like them seek to sweep under the rug and keep out of sight.

But you will hold on anyway, won't you?

Because it's the only thing you know how to do.


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